


Things Unsaid

by citrinesunset



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Catharsis, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Hate Sex, M/M, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 04:07:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13803081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrinesunset/pseuds/citrinesunset
Summary: Hank is not ready for forgive Erik for everything he's done, and when he gets stuck alone with Erik in Paris, his frustration comes to a head. But Erik surprises him.





	Things Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [still_lycoris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [still_lycoris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris) in the [xmenrarepairs18](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmenrarepairs18) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
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> Hank has never really liked Erik and after Cuba, that dislike turns basically to hate, particularly as Charles gets more and more unhappy. When they meet again in DofP, a fight turns into hate!sex which is surprisingly enjoyable for both of them.

After Cuba, Hank had tried to make sense of what happened.

He thought about everything he knew about Erik, every interaction they'd shared. He wanted to find a pattern that predicted the eventual betrayal.

There was the time, for example, when Erik told Hank he was wasting his gifts by hiding what he was. (Hank hadn't asked for his advice.)

And the time Raven snuck some vodka out of the liquor cabinet to share with Hank, Alex, and Sean, and Erik caught them and scolded them for drinking when they had to get up early to train. (Erik, of course, could frequently be found with a martini in his hand.)

And the time when Hank was going for a run and almost got stabbed by a knife Erik was flinging around with his power. (Had Erik apologized? Hank couldn't remember.)

In short, Erik had been a jerk. And after Cuba, it was comforting to see some rhyme and reason to Erik's betrayal.

For ten years, Hank had watched while Charles' bitterness and hatred toward Erik grew. Hank didn't take any pleasure from it. He missed the optimistic Charles who'd been full of energy and determination. But it was validating that Charles was unwilling to forgive or make excuses.

He was glad that even when Charles agreed to the ridiculous plan to break Erik out of prison, he showed no softening of heart.

But at some point as they were flying over the Atlantic, something changed. When they landed in Paris, Charles was different. He was more subdued. Thoughtful. Hank knew what was happening, and it made him sick. Erik was getting to him. Wearing him down and making him doubt himself. And Hank's anger grew, as though he was absorbing the rage that dissipated off Charles.

Charles' choice of accommodations in Paris didn't help matters. Though no one said anything, there was an unspoken consensus that leaving Erik unsupervised would be a bad idea. That left a couple options: they could get two double rooms, and one of them would room with Erik, or they could get a suite.

The suite won out. The way Charles explained it, this way they would have a shared common area where they could eat, and hopefully regroup with Raven once they got her away to safety.

The trouble was, the suite only had two proper bedrooms, meaning that two of them would have to sleep on the sofa and on a rollaway bed. Charles promptly moved into one of the bedrooms, which Hank couldn't begrudge him for. Logan said he'd be fine with the sofa. Hank needed very little encouragement to take the other bedroom. He was exhausted from the long flight, and his whole body was stiff from the hours he spent in the cockpit. But at least in the cockpit, he'd been able to ignore Erik.

They ordered in room service for dinner, but the only one who managed to finish his dinner was Logan, who'd ordered a steak. At least they had plenty to discuss about their plans for the next day. During the flight, Hank had started to worry. If Logan was right, the future of the entire world would depend on what happened tomorrow. Now, Hank's nerves were getting the better of him, and he didn't know if he'd be able to sleep. His muscles were starting to ache like they did sometimes when he was going to transform. He considered taking an extra dose of his serum but decided to wait. He didn't know exactly when they'd return home. It was safer to ration out his supply.

He opted for a glass of scotch instead. A bad idea, perhaps—he'd seen firsthand what overreliance on alcohol could lead to.

When they were done discussing their plans, Erik got up and announced he was going to take a shower. Charles, who was still sitting at the table with his half-finished meal, propped his elbow on the table and rubbed his forehead.

It was about time for his serum. He got headaches when he was due for one.

"Do you want me to get your dose ready?" Hank asked.

Charles hesitated, which Hank wasn't used to. With a slow nod, Charles said, "Yes, I think that would be a good idea. Would you bring it to my room?" Charles got up and walked to the bedroom he'd claimed, shutting the door behind him.

When Hank stepped into the room a few minutes later, syringe in hand, he found Charles sitting on the edge of bed, looking at the floor in a daze. He didn't look up, but he unbuttoned his cuff and rolled up his sleeve.

Hank crouched at his feet and swabbed his arm with an alcohol swab. He couldn't help but notice that Charles had several tiny bottles of alcohol clustered on his nightstand. Hank didn't know what concerned him more: the possibility of Charles being hungover tomorrow, or the possibility of him being shaky from withdrawal. A hangover was probably preferable.

"Erik is right, isn't he?" Charles said. "I've hidden myself away. Abandoned everyone. Do you think this is all happening now because I—do you think Raven—" his voice cracked.

"No. And I don't care if Erik shot the president or not. He has no right to judge you." 

"Yes, but we can't deny that this plan would be somewhat easier if I had my ability. The fact that I can't bring myself to...."

Hank picked up the needle. "Right now, the only thing that matters is being ready for tomorrow. Logan came to us because Raven will listen to you. Not because of your ability."

He had no idea if that reassured Charles. He'd never seen this sort of conflict in him before. But whatever Charles was thinking, he still closed his eyes and took a deep, relieved breath when Hank gave him the injection.

"If you don't mind, I think I'd like to get some rest now," Charles said. "If the others look for me, would you tell them I've gone to bed?"

"Of course."

Hank stepped back out into the common area, shutting the door softly behind him. He came face to face with Logan, who was putting on his jacket.

"Are you going somewhere?"

"Yeah. Wanna do some recon. Make sure we have our route planned out. I'll be back. Keep an eye on Magneto, will you?"

Hank wanted to ask Logan if he was seriously going to leave him alone with Erik, but thought better of it. He wasn't some kid who couldn't handle himself. Instead, he sat on the sofa and watched while Logan left.

Erik was still in the shower. Hank could hear the water running. How long had it been? At least fifteen minutes. He wasn't complaining. As long as Erik didn't use all the hot water, Hank was glad to be alone for a bit. He took off his shoes, loosened his collar, and leaned back.

Hank didn't know what he'd expected from Erik. Most people would have been excited to be free, or overwhelmed by the sudden increase in stimuli. Hank had prepared himself for the possibility that Erik wouldn't be the same person anymore.

But Erik was _exactly_ like Hank remembered. Aside from his outburst on the plane, Erik had the same disaffected, superior air that he always wore. Hank didn't want to see him traumatized by the last decade, but he expected...something.

Erik didn't deserve forgiveness. Sure, perhaps in a bizarre twist of irony, he'd been imprisoned for the one crime he _wasn't_ guilty of. What difference did it make? Even if Erik had spent the last decade regretting what he'd done (and Hank saw no indication of that), what good did it do them? Did it give Charles his legs back?

No. Only Hank had accomplished that.

Finally, the bathroom door opened. Erik emerged, still toweling his hair dry. He was barefoot and shirtless, but thankfully wearing the sweatpants they'd brought for him. Erik looked around before settling his gaze on Hank.

"Where are Charles and the other one?"

"Logan is doing reconnaissance, and Charles went to bed. Don't disturb him."

"Wasn't planning on it. I think I'll get some sleep, myself."

Erik made his way toward the bedroom Hank claimed. Hank started to get up.

"Where are you going?"

"Like I said, I'm going to bed."

"That's my room."

Erik stopped and looked back over his shoulder. He raised his eyebrows. "You should have struck a stronger claim on it, then." He stepped into the bedroom.

Hank followed him. "I'm the one who flew us all the way here. You could have rested on the plane."

Erik tossed his damp towel on the bed. "I haven't had a proper bed in ten years."

"I'm sure the rollaway bed they gave us will still be an improvement on whatever you slept on in the Pentagon."

"I'm not in the mood for a fight, Hank."

Hank could feel his blood pressure rising. It wasn't good. This was the type of physiological response that could trigger a transformation if he wasn't careful. But he wasn't going to back down.

"Do you really think you're in a position to lecture me on that? You're the one who almost made us crash. You had no right to talk to Charles the way you did. You have no idea what he's been through."

"No, I can't read his mind. That was his power, until you helped him get rid of it."

"You weren't here for the last decade. I was."

Erik turned to face him. "Then tell me: what did the two of you accomplish? Besides hiding, injecting yourselves like lab rats and pretending to be human." Erik stepped closer and circled him like a predator. "Do you think you're better than me because you were there for him? You were there to watch him become powerless and a drunk and you did nothing. And what have you don't lately to fulfill your own potential? The last time I saw you, you were finally embracing what you are."

The curtain rings rattled, but if it was a warning, Hank didn't heed it.

"At least I've given him back what _you_ took from him."

Erik took a half step back. His eyes were cold, but Hank didn't care if he'd hit a nerve.

"Get out," Erik said flatly. "I want to go to bed."

"No. Maybe you're used to intimidating people, but that's not going to work on me now. What are you going to do? Use your power on me?"

"You mean like this?"

Erik flicked his hand, and Hank felt like he'd been shoved in the solar plexus. He grabbed at his belt buckle in surprise and then, before Erik could push him again, he lunged. He caught Erik by surprise and knocked him back on the bed.

He could feel himself changing. His clothes became tight, the seams straining and then popping. Muscles rippled under his skin as they grew. He climbed on top of Erik and pinned him down by the shoulders. Erik grabbed Hank's biceps and squeezed.

"Finally," Erik said with a small smile. "Your true form. You want to fight? Then show me what you've got."

Hank growled in Erik's face. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You're lying. Do you always try to fight Charles' battles for him? Do you like to imagine you're his knight in shining army?"

He pressed his claws against Erik's skin. "You betrayed _all of us_!" he said, spittle flying from his lips. We all trusted you. _You_ encouraged us to fight. And now Charles is broken and Raven's going to become a killer, because of you."

Charles may have become their leader, but Erik was the one who'd fought before. He was the one who gave them hope that defeating Shaw was possible.

"I'm flattered," Erik said, "but I think you give me too much credit."

He tightened his grip on Hank's arms, but he wasn't pushing him away. It was almost like he was trying to hold him there. Erik's chest rose and fell rapidly.

Then Erik squirmed, and Hank felt it. Erik's sweatpants didn't leave much to the imagination.

With a growl, Hank pulled out of Erik's grip and sat back on his heels. "What are you doing?"

Erik pushed himself up on his elbows. "You're the one who climbed on me like a wild dog."

"Not like that! I didn't—" He looked over his shoulder at the door, suddenly worried about Charles waking up or Logan coming back. "Charles is going to hear."

The door swung shut as if on its own, and the metal lock engaged. Hank turned and glared at Erik.

"You're much more likable this way, you know," Erik said. "Strong and feral. The way nature meant you to be."

"I'm not feral," Hank said with a growl. He glanced at Erik's groin and immediately looked away, having confirmed his suspicions.

Erik climbed to his knees. Before Hank could ask what he was doing, he grabbed Hank's shirt collar and started tugging at the buttons. One of them popped loose, and Hank grunted, but his shirt was already ruined from his transformation.

At least he'd brought spares. Packing light was never an option for him.

He should leave, of course. But he still didn't want to retreat. He was done letting Erik intimidate him. But right now, Erik didn't seem intimidating. As he pulled open Hank's shirt and ran his fingers through the fur on his chest, it was with something like awe.

"It's been a very long time since someone touched me," Erik said, as though he was answering an unspoken question. "Almost as long since I've touched myself. And I don't think I can sleep tonight. So go on, then. Show me how _angry_ you are. Get it out of your system."

"I don't want to hurt you," Hank said again, less concerned about the possibility than annoyed with how it felt like Erik was goading him to be something he didn't want to be.

"You're not hurting me," Erik said simply. "If you do, you'll know it."

He didn't want to hurt him, but part of him wanted to see Erik vulnerable and exposed. Despite himself, Hank liked the idea of scratching his claws down Erik's skin. He wanted to nip at him with his fangs. 

Erik reached for Hank's belt buckle, this time with his hands. Hank let him undo his fly and pull his pants and briefs down around his thighs. Hank's face burned. He wasn't used to being touched like this. Especially not by men and least of all by someone he'd spent a decade hating.

He grabbed the waist of Erik's sweatpants and yanked them down, but he didn't know where to look while Erik finished taking them off and tossed them aside. Before he could lose his nerve, Hank pushed Erik back down on the bed and leaned over him. Erik grabbed his shoulders and wrapped his legs around Hank's waist, pulling him close so that their erections touched. It was shockingly intimate, and Hank couldn't articulate why he wasn't recoiling. It felt _good_.

Then Erik started to rub himself against Hank's fur-covered stomach.

Hank ran his claws down Erik's arms, leaving fine white lines that would probably turn into pink welts later. He nipped at his shoulder and enjoyed how Erik squirmed underneath him. He dug his nails into Hank's shoulders and tugged at his fur.

In this form, Hank's senses were heightened. He could smell Erik's sweat, which covered his body in a fine sheen. When he nipped at his skin, he could taste the bitter residue of soap. He could feel the heat of Erik's naked body.

He wanted all of this to tell him something. He wanted it to make Erik more human. And perhaps it did. But it didn't make him less of an enigma.

Erik grunted and shuddered underneath him, and Hank felt something warm and wet in his fur. He grimaced, and almost moved away in disgust. But Erik worked a hand in between their bodies and grasped Hank's cock. His hand was firm and a little too dry, but at this point, it didn't matter.

Hank couldn't help himself. He growled into the crook of Erik's neck when he came.

He lay on top of Erik. He was a little afraid to move and let the moment pass. Then Erik wriggled out from under him and sat on the edge of the bed. He grabbed the discarded towel and wiped himself clean.

"You're just going to leave that for housekeeping?" Hank said. "That's disgusting."

"I'll throw it away, then. I don't imagine they'll miss it."

Hank got up. It was time for that shower he was thinking of. And he didn't think he could be alone with Erik anymore. The moment was over.

But as he started toward the door, Erik's voice stopped him.

"I didn't abandon you. Any of you. I wanted Charles to join me. I wanted _you_ to join me. I thought if any of you, beside Raven, would understand what I wanted to fight for, it would be you."

Hank looked down at his feet. It was strange to think that Erik had ever considered him a potential ally. "You were wrong."

He glanced back at Erik. He was bent over with his elbows on his knees, and for the first time, he didn't look proud or apathetic. Hank almost wanted to stay.

"Yes, I suppose I was. But I'm glad Charles hasn't been alone."

Erik ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. For a second, Hank almost wanted to ask him if he was okay. But then he thought better of it. It wasn't a question Erik would appreciate.

So Hank left without a word.

He spent a long time in the shower. Maybe even longer than Erik had earlier.

Hank had never allowed himself to think much about Erik's point-of-view, because if he did, he would be forced to acknowledge the similarities between Charles and Erik. They were both like the sun, bright and capable of drawing people into orbit around them. But while Charles' approval and praise had always been easily won, Erik's had always been conditional and based on ideals, and thus unattainable. But perhaps Erik never realized that.

And he hadn't thought much about what Raven was thinking when she went with Erik, because then he would have to consider that maybe Erik hadn't brainwashed her. And maybe, in another universe, Hank might have found himself drawn into Erik's orbit.

The truth was, back in '62, Hank had wanted to believe in Erik like Charles did. There was no pattern he could have seen, because they'd all had their flaws. They'd all had baggage.

He still had enough of the serum in his system that he was able to transform back into his human form by the time he was done in the shower. When he returned to the bedroom to change into his pajamas, Erik was lying on the bed. He'd put his sweatpants back on, and one of his legs hung off the side of the bed as though he'd planned to get up. His arm was draped over his eyes, and at first Hank couldn't tell if he was sleeping or not. But then he snored softly.

Hank considered kicking him out. Instead, he got his pajamas on and went back to the common area to wait for Logan to return.


End file.
